


In Absentia

by WorryinglyInnocent



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Belle & Jefferson friendship, Canon Divergance, F/M, Rumbelle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2014-05-10
Packaged: 2018-01-05 00:20:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1087355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorryinglyInnocent/pseuds/WorryinglyInnocent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after S2 Ep13 'Tiny'. Grumpy stands guard outside the room of the scared young woman who is a shadow of the Belle he once knew, Jefferson makes ready for his second prison-cum-hospital break, and Dr Whale turns a blind eye... Rumbelle, Jefferson & Belle friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The most frustrating thing is that she can't remember her name. They called her Belle, and sometimes that feels right, sometimes it doesn't. The second most frustrating thing is that they keep insisting that she is wrong. She knows what she saw, and she knows that they are trying to hide something when they say she didn't see it.

The man, Mr Gold... He scared her, but at the same time, he's been the only one who's seemed to really care about wanting to help her remember. He hasn't been back since she broke his teacup. She hopes she didn't scare him off forever; she wants to ask why the blasted thing was so important and why he was so devastated when she smashed it. She didn't mean to smash it, not really, but he was scaring her and at the time she just wanted him to stop, to go away, to leave her in peace with her scattered thoughts, trying to put herself back together again with the wisps of her memory. She feels a lot like the cup itself. There's a piece of her missing, and one touch could shatter her into thousands of fragments.

"Pst."

She looks up to see a face peering around the door, and something inside her skips because she knows that although she's never see n that face before during her stay at the hospital, it seems familiar nonetheless. This person is perhaps someone she really knows from before. The face is attached to a body, which inserts itself into the room. The little leap of excitement in her heart turns to dismay when she sees that he is wearing a nurse's uniform. Perhaps her memory - what little of it she has - is playing tricks on her.

He doesn't act like any of the medical staff though, his covertness and secrecy don't fit with the other doctors and nurses. He closes the door quietly behind him and peers through the little glass panel furtively to check that no-one's coming before he comes over to her and pulls the curtains around her bed. He empties the bag he's carrying onto the foot of the bed and she recognises the clothes she was wearing when she was first admitted, now smelling of washing powder rather than rain, blood and asphalt.

"Come on," he said. "Let's get you out of here; somewhere safe."

"Who are you?" she asks, although really, the question should be 'who am I?'

"A friend," the man says. "The name's Jefferson."

"Do you work here?"

"No."

"Why are you helping me?"

"Because I'm a friend," Jefferson reaffirms. "And there's no reason for you to stay here. You're not ill, you're not injured, and you're certainly not mad. Believe me, I know all about madness."

She looks at him, and his large eyes are in earnest.

"You believe me, then?"

"When you say that you saw Mr Gold performing magic? Of course. I'd be a fool not to, as would anyone."

"So it's real, then... You're not just humouring me?"

"Belle... You don't mind if I call you Belle, do you? I know you may not feel like a Belle at the moment, but you were always a Belle before, and hopefully you will remember that you are a Belle very soon."

She thinks. She doesn't think Belle is her name at the moment, but since she doesn't have any more suggestions as to what she might be called, Jefferson, and anyone else, may as well call her Belle. She nods.

"Belle, magic is as real as you or I, and I don't understand why everyone else feels the need to keep this fundamental fact from you. Come on, get dressed and let's get out of here."

He slips out of the curtains to give her some privacy, and she wastes no time in pulling on her clothes.

"Do you know him?" she asks through the curtains.

"Who?"

"Mr Gold."

"I do."

"Are you friends?"

There's a long pause before Jefferson replies. "In a manner. We used to do business together, but I haven't been in contact with him for a long time."

"Oh." Belle isn't sure what to think of this, whether to be glad or wary. She had been hoping that perhaps Jefferson could shed some light on her own relationship with the man. They lapse into silence as she finishes getting dressed.

"I know that he loves you very much," Jefferson says presently. "He might have a funny way of showing it - broken porcelain is an odd choice of declaration, I'll give you that, but he does love you."

Belle doesn't voice her next question, simply mulling it over in her mind. Did she love him? Before? A small part of her thinks that she must have done. She remembers the utter devastation in his face when she screamed at him, when she threw his strange token of affection across the room. He had seemed so... desolate. So lost.

Just as she feels now.

She grabs her handbag from the bedside cabinet and joins Jefferson outside the curtains.

"Ready?" he asks. She nods and they leave the room together, Jefferson still looking this way and that for other staff. Outside the door, Belle is rather alarmed to find a man with a pickaxe hefted over one shoulder, ostensibly waiting for them. His grim expression fades into the shadow of a smile when he sees Belle.

"Hey, Sister."

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" she asks apologetically.

His smile fades. "You did, once. And you will again. You can call me Leroy, but Grumpy works just as well."

Belle smiles, because both Jefferson and Leroy are determined, just like Mr Gold was, that she will remember.

"Leroy, what are you doing here?" Jefferson asks. "And why did you feel the need to come armed?"

"I don't suppose you noticed the hulking great giant charging around outside earlier, did you?" Leroy asks sourly. "Seriously, anything could happen. You know Granny's taken to keeping her crossbow under the bar." He looks Belle up and down. "I think we need to get her tooled up. D'you think Gold has any spare swords in the shop?"

"That man could probably get you an elephant made of grilled cheese if there was a deal in it for him," Jefferson says wryly.

"As for 'why am I here', well, I'd say the same reason you are," Leroy continues. He turns to Belle and grins. "We're busting you out, Sister. It's not safe here."

But there's a more pressing point on Belle's mind.

"You think I can use a sword?"

"I know you can use a sword. You've battled many a beast in your lifetime."

Belle wonders. It doesn't sound very much like her, being a hero and defeating monsters. Mind you, she doesn't know what would sound like her.

They are halfway down the corridor and Belle can see the exit. They're almost out, and Belle feels a certain thrill. She feels safe with Leroy and Jefferson because they understand her, they aren't trying to shape her and her mind into something that's convenient for them. They accept the fact that she can't remember, and accept the fact that she knows she's not mad, and they have such faith that this amnesia of hers will not last forever.

"Jefferson..."

All three of them freeze and Belle looks over her shoulder to see one of the doctors standing in the doorway to another room. Jefferson turns and tips an imaginary hat to the doctor.

"Victor. Long time no see."

"Are you abducting one of my patients, Jefferson?"

"I believe the term you are looking for is 'liberating', Victor."

"She doesn't belong here," Leroy growls. "She deserves the truth, and we're busting her out."

The doctor looks at them for a long minute, and finally turns on his heel and makes to go back into the ward. "All right then, go, before someone else questions you."

"Thank you, Victor. I owe you. As will Gold, when we tell him."

They speed up and in no time at all, they're outside. Jefferson guides Belle towards the carpark and a waiting vehicle. There's a little girl, about ten years old, sitting in the passenger seat.

"You did it," she says.

"Of course I did it," Jefferson replies. "I can't believe you'd doubt my abilities. This is not the first time I have broken Belle out of the hospital. I'm getting to be rather good at it."

"You've done this before?" Belle asks. "I, erm, I don't remember."

"It's all right. That is one experience I am sure that no-one would begrudge you forgetting. It's in the past, we won't dwell on it." He opens the back door for her. "Belle, this is my daughter Grace, Grace, this is Belle."

"Hi." Grace waves from the front seat.

"Hey."

"Where would you like to go?" Jefferson asks. "We can take you home, but I doubt it would feel much like a home to you at the moment, or you're quite welcome to stay with us until you feel more like yourself."

Belle chooses to go with Grace and Jefferson. Everywhere is unknown to her now - if she is going to be somewhere unfamiliar, she would at least like it to be somewhere where there are people who care about her to help her out.

But speaking of people who care about her... Belle wonders where Mr Gold is, and she voices this to Jefferson.

"He's had to go away," Jefferson replies sadly. "He would have stayed, but he thought that perhaps he was not the person you needed to see. But he'll be back. He wants to see you again. He wants you to remember."

Belle feels a pang of guilt about the cup again.

* * *

**To Be Continued**


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, Jefferson, Grace and Leroy take Belle to Mr Gold’s shop. Immediately, Jefferson and Leroy start looking for weapons. Belle just looks around at the treasure trove of quirky items, looking for anything that might jog her memory.

“Aha!” Jefferson pulls out a couple of swords from an antique umbrella stand and passes one to Leroy. The shorter man tests the weight then wrinkles his nose and puts it back.

“I’ll stick with my axe, thanks.”

Jefferson keeps his sword, but his fancy swordplay leaves a lot to be desired and Leroy has to grab his arm before he breaks anything.

“Can I have a sword?” Grace asks brightly, sitting on the counter, swinging her legs.

“You can have an ice-cream,” Jefferson says, rearranging a couple of sinister-looking marionettes that he managed to knock over with his sword.

Grace raises one eyebrow. “An ice-cream is not quite as effective at saving damsels in distress as a sword is.”

“No, but it tastes a lot better.”

Belle leaves father and daughter to their negotiations and ventures behind the curtain into the backroom. She has a feeling of déjà vu; something in the back of her mind tells her that she’s been here before, tentative and unsure of her surroundings and her identity.

_“Excuse me, are you Mr Gold?”_

_“Yes I am, but I’m afraid the shop is closed.”_

There’s more to the memory, Belle knows it, but it won’t come. She wants to know what happens next but her mind is not obliging.

Something catches her attention on the desk and she moves over to investigate – it’s the pieces of the chipped cup that she threw in the hospital. Waiting on a workbench to be fixed.

Carefully, Belle gathers up the pieces and puts them into her handbag, retreating into the main shop where Jefferson and Grace’s discussion has still not reached a conclusion.

“Jefferson,” she asks. “Do you have any superglue at home?”

“Of course… Why?”

“There’s something I need to fix.”

They go for ice-cream at Granny’s. Belle recognises Ruby, but the waitress keeps her distance. Perhaps it’s Leroy’s brooding presence at her side that warns her off. Belle finds she doesn’t mind. She’s comfortable with Jefferson and Leroy’s company.

“Belle, when we get home I need to show you something,” Grace says. “I think it might help you to understand the town a bit better.”

Belle takes a lick of her raspberry ripple and nods. Anything will be a help at this point in time.

The thing Grace wants to show her, it transpires, is her vast collection of Disney DVDs.

“Let’s just say that everyone in town equates to a character in one of these fairy tales,” Grace says, putting a disc into the TV and sitting on the sofa next to Belle. “It makes everything a lot easier.”

“So who am I?” Belle asks.

“Well, your name is Belle…” Grace gestures towards the television and together they watch _Beauty_ _and the Beast_.

If Belle is Belle, does that make Gold the Beast?

Grace nods. “Yep. Although I don’t think he has any talking furniture. That would be quite cool though. I’d like a wardrobe who could pick out my clothes in the morning, I’d get more time in bed.”

“So who are you?” Belle asks. Grace shrugs.

“I’m not really in any of them. Disney haven’t discovered my potential yet.”

“What about your dad?”

At this, Grace bursts out laughing and scrambles off the sofa to insert another disc. “That’s Dad!” she says, halfway through _Alice in Wonderland_ , pointing to the Mad Hatter.

“Hmmm.” Belle looks over her shoulder to see Jefferson in the doorway, one eyebrow raised. “Grace, it’s bedtime.”

That night, Belle dreams of whirling around a ballroom wearing a golden gown. The partner in whose arms she waltzes, however, is no hulking beast, but an ordinary man. An almost ordinary man. It’s Mr Gold, but she does not recognise him at first glance. His skin is greeny-grey and dusted with gold, giving him the appearance of being scaled, and his impeccable suit is replaced with tight leather and flowing silk. For a few moments, in her dream, this appearance is more familiar to her than the man in her waking life.

X

The next day, Belle receives a phone call. She’s sitting in the window, trying to piece the cup together again. Jefferson watches her out of the corner of his eye, and he can just hear Rumpelstiltskin’s voice on the other end of the line.

It sounds like he’s saying goodbye.

It sounds like he’s dying.

When Belle hangs up the call, she stares down at the tray of porcelain shards in her lap, the superglue in one hand and the phone in the other.

For a long time, she doesn’t move. Jefferson is on the verge of offering her a cup of tea or a shoulder to cry on, but then she shakes herself, puts down the phone, and with a grim determination, continues to mend the cup.


	3. Chapter 3

Emma cringes as the knock on the apartment door reverberates through the room. Not only is it loud, it is incredibly angry, and it is not the sound of a fist hammering, it is a metal cane handle smacked against the wood hard enough to leave a mark.

  
She takes a deep breath and opens the door. Gold’s expression is one of utter, unabatable fury, and a small part of Emma’s mind is pretty impressed considering he nearly died yesterday.

  
“Where is she?” he growls. “Where is Belle?”

Emma doesn’t know, and since she’s been with Gold for the majority of the time since he left Belle, she’s not quite sure how he expects her to know, but she realises that voicing this opinion is probably not the most intelligent of ideas. But Gold’s eyes are focussed behind her, on Mary Margaret and David.

“We, erm, we sort of had other priorities…” Mary Margaret begins weakly. Gold’s eyes narrow, and Emma knows that she’s going to stay barring this doorway if it’s the last thing she does, because if Gold’s face is anything to go by, it might well be.

“Did I not warn you to keep her safe?” he hisses, and it’s the quietness of his anger that unnerves Emma the most. He’s nowhere near as scary when he’s shouting and blustering. The intense moment is broken by a yell from below and the sound of footsteps thundering up the stairs.

“Gold!”

It sounds like Dr Whale, and sure enough, he and Archie come racing into view. Gold looks at them grimly over his shoulder as they pant for breath.

“Belle’s safe, Jefferson’s taking care of her,” Whale says.

“She’s fine, we swear,” Archie adds, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“And her memory?” Gold asks through gritted teeth, still not moving out of the doorway.

Archie makes a face.

“Still absent.”

Gold pauses for a few long moments, then moves away from the apartment, past Archie and Whale without another word. The latter follows him (perhaps to try and prevent Jefferson receiving the same treatment), but Archie lingers.

“Thank you,” Emma says eventually.

“Don’t mention it. Preventing murder is all in a day’s work.”

“No, I meant thank you for watching out for Belle.”

Archie shrugs. “She saved my life. The least I can do is help her to remember her bravery and heroism in doing so.”

Emma nods. She hopes for everyone’s sakes that Belle is safe when Gold finds her.

X

Belle is sitting in a chair by the window of Jefferson’s living room when Gold enters. The younger man had opened the door before he’d even knocked and invited him in, gesturing through to Belle’s location with a simple ‘she’s through there’. She’s reading and doesn’t notice his tap on the open door, so some of her old personality seems to be bleeding through. Maybe there is hope after all. He clears his throat to get her attention and she turns, her face breaking into a smile when she sees him. Gold is a little taken aback because of all the expressions he had expected to see on her, that was not one of them, especially not after the circumstances of their last parting.

“You’re back!” she says, and she gets up and runs across the room on light feet. “You’re alive, you’re ok!” She throws her arms around him – and there she is, his ever-tactile Belle – but then jumps away as if she’s been stung. “Sorry,” she says sheepishly, shuffling her feet a little. She’s barefoot, so apparently her penchant for skyscraping shoes has not yet returned.

“No, no, it’s all right. Hug me as much as you like.” You always used to, he adds, but he doesn’t give voice to the words. Perhaps, instead of trying to force her to remember, it is best to start afresh with a clean slate.

“I’m glad to see you’re ok,” she says. “Although I was half-expecting you to be golden and scaly.”

Gold is glad of his cane holding him upright and steady.

“Pardon?” he asks, his voice strangled around the words. “What did you say?”

Belle laughs, and the sunny sound warms him.

“It was just a dream,” she says. “An odd dream, but just a dream nonetheless.”

“They say dreams are just memories, really,” Gold begins, echoing his words to the huntsman, so long ago now it seems. His heart is pounding painfully in his chest because even if it is only a flash in a misremembered dream she gives no credence to, she still has the memories, tamped down somewhere in the back of her mind. “Memories of another life.”

Belle raises one eyebrow. “Golden and scaly?”

Gold shrugs.

“You never know,” he says. “Stranger things have happened.”

It’s time to bite the bullet and not keep dancing around it. He clears his throat again, his grip on his cane handle tense and nervous.

“I’m sorry. About what happened in the hospital. I’m sorry I scared you.”

Belle smiles.

“I’m sorry too. About your cup.” She makes her way over to the chair she was sitting in and takes out something white that had been nestled in the cushions beside her. “I did my best.”

The chipped cup, superglued together. The cracks are still visible, the chip itself is wonkier than it was, but it is whole. It has survived, and it shows that they too can survive. They will get there in the end.

“Maybe…” Gold is almost afraid to suggest it. “Maybe we can start again?”

Belle nods. “I’d like that.” She holds out her hand. “Hello. I have no idea what my name is but you can call me Belle.”

Gold shakes her offered hand; her grip is steady and firm next to his near trembling.

“Mr Gold. But you can call me Rumpel.”

“Rumpel?”

Gold smiles. “I told you stranger things had happened.”

X

Belle enjoys their conversation, but there’s something still eating away at the back of her mind.

“Jefferson says that you can do magic,” she says eventually. “Maybe you can…” She gestures to the cup. Gold shakes his head.

“No. You worked hard to put it back together. By hand, the long way. The difficult way. My interference would undermine your effort and determination. Too long I’ve used magic as the easy way out. It was the one thing you always used to despair of in me. If we’re going to put ourselves back together, it needs to be by hand. The long way. Or else it won’t be worth anything.”

Belle nods. She understands and admires his decision, but the little part of her that still needs convincing she’s not mad is disappointed. She’d hoped for a demonstration. Gold seems to catch her expression and gives her a sly smile.

“That’s not to say that a little dabbling here and there will be completely off the cards,” he says. One of the cushions in her chair has a pattern of roses. Gold passes his hand over it and pulls a rose from the fabric, a living flower created from the material, and he offers it to her as Belle watches in wonder, her sanity finally justified.

“If you’ll have it,” he says, a little bashfully. Belle accepts the flower and inhales the light scent. For a moment, the face across from her is speckled grey and gold and they are standing in a lofty hall, but the vision passes as soon as it arrives.

“Why thank you.”

The moment is over but Belle still yearns for a glimpse of her glittering imp.

X

They settle into a little routine over the next couple of days. Belle is introduced to Gold’s son and various other relatives (the boy Henry’s family tree is beautifully complicated) and always, Jefferson, Leroy, or Gold is nearby. Leroy has become almost like a personal bodyguard, but he’s sharp enough to keep a discreet distance. There’s a dark-haired woman who keeps trying to approach her, but she is always waylaid and Belle is beginning to think that everyone in the town is running interference. She is the mayor, Jefferson says (the Evil Queen, Grace adds). He doesn’t go into much detail, but he mentions that she and Gold do not always see eye to eye and they are worried that the mayor may try to use Belle as a pawn in the vendetta.

Belle is touched by their concern for her.

And then, then the end of the world arrives, or so it seems. Belle is in the library – it feels more like home than any of the other places she has been in, including Gold’s house and the apartment that is ostensibly hers. Leroy had been with her but had left when the madness began, saying something about a disturbance in the mines. Belle dives under the issue desk as the forest starts to take over, the building shuddering uncontrollably. She draws her knees up to her chest and closes her eyes, wanting someone, anyone, to tell her that it is all going to be all right. Leroy, Archie and Gold have all told her how brave she used to be, and she feels almost as if she’s letting them down now by being so fearful. She presses her hands over her ears so that she can’t hear the rumbling destruction outside. She thinks she can hear someone hammering on the locked doors, but everything’s so loud.

“Belle!”

She squeezes her eyes tight shut and puts her fingers in her ears, humming one of Grace’s Disney songs to herself to try and block out the noise. She vaguely hears her name in the commotion, but she puts it down to a fancy of her imagination.

“Belle!”

And suddenly the voice calling her is right next to her, and she opens her eyes to see Gold crouching beside her. He smiles and gingerly manoeuvres himself so that he too is under the issue desk. Belle is so glad to see him that she throws her arms around him, burying her face in his collar. At least she’s not going to die alone.

“How did you get inside?” she asks, finally releasing him.

“When you didn’t answer I picked the lock,” Gold admits sheepishly. “I just wanted to make sure you were ok.”

Belle blinks. “You came all the way across town in that storm just to make sure I was ok?”

Gold smiles and nods. “Of course I did. I love you. I had to make sure. And if this is the end, well, I’d rather we were together.”

Belle’s reeling. They told her that Gold loved her, and so far he’s proved that admirably, but this cements it beyond all doubt. Gold loves her, and in that moment, Belle thinks she loves him too. So Belle takes a deep breath, because the one thing that’s been consistently whispered throughout all of this talk of magic and curses and other realms, the one thing that is repeated over and over through Grace’s Disney films, is that True Love’s Kiss is the most powerful magic of all.

She presses her lips to Gold’s and as the library shudders, so her mind implodes with pictures and memories and forgotten conversations now remembered.

“Rumpel,” she breathes, because he is her Rumpel, her sorcerer in leather and dragonhide made human again in this new world.

“Kiss me again,” Rumpel says, slipping his arms around her back and pulling her in closer. “It’s working.”

So she does, and with this next kiss, the jumble of memories sort themselves into a proper order, and her mind finally feels like her own.

“I remember,” Belle says. “I remember. I love you.”

“My darling Belle.” Rumpel takes her in his arms and holds her tightly as she sobs against his shoulder, the sudden awareness too much to take in. “I love you too.”

Belle doesn’t know how long they stay in their embrace, but by degrees she becomes aware that the earth beneath them is no longer shaking,

“Is it over?” she asks.

Rumpel pauses, then nods. “I think so.”

He gets off the floor and holds out a hand to help Belle up. She keeps holding on as they venture out of the library together, ready to face the world. They have been kept apart by so many things, so many times, and Belle will not let it happen again. They have true love, and that is the most powerful magic of all.


End file.
